


why don't you figure my heart out?

by theirloveisesoteric



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Famous Louis Tomlinson, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Insecure Harry, Louis changes that, M/M, Not completed, Straight Harry, Tumblr, Tumblr Famous Harry Styles, alternative universe, kinda soulmates?, really not finished
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 05:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4048363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theirloveisesoteric/pseuds/theirloveisesoteric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was eight. </p><p>Liam and Zayn both drew pretty girls in pretty dresses and Louis wished, wished, wished he had too. But he couldn’t help himself.He drew a boy with curly hair like a halo around him, green eyes, and a smile as big as half his face.</p><p>A boy.</p><p>(Or Louis has his own television show and Harry is tumblr famous. When Louis meets him at the airport, Harry is the boy Louis has been drawing since he was eight years old.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	why don't you figure my heart out?

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this work isn't done yet, but please feel free to comment. :) this was my friend theirloveisesoteric's idea and we wrote it together. Enjoy! 
> 
> Please also note that this isn't really a soulmate fic. This ONLY happened to Louis. Nobody else :) x

Once again: this is NOT finished, although it is a one shot.

It’s not a girl, is the first thing Louis thought.

Oh.

Before he could rip out the page, and make some comment about how this whole thing was stupid, Liam and Zayn both already leaned over to see what he had drawn.Your perfect woman.They were all frozen and Louis wanted that forever, didn't want anything they were going to say to him.

“Oh,” Zayn had said, the first to come back to life. 

“OH,” Liam echoed him, clearing his throat.

“That’s cool, bro. Whatever you’re into.” 

He was eight. Liam and Zayn both drew pretty girls in pretty dresses and Louis wished, wished, wished he had too. But he couldn’t help himself.He drew a boy with curly hair like a halo around him, green eyes, and a smile as big as half his face.

A boy.

Louis knew it was best to forget about it, but somehow he couldn’t help himself. He kept doodling as the years drew on, as he turned eight, nine, ten The boy grew dimples and flowers in his hair and late one winter night, he even got his first tattoo drawn, a little star. A mistake actually, because Louis’ hand slipped, and then he just tried to fix it. Louis was in no way an artist, he only ever drew the boy. He was even getting quite good at it, it was becoming more and more detailed as time drew on.He kept all the sketches, every napkin, piece of torn out textbook, in the margins of tests, and he put them all in a box in his closet, hoping nobody would find them and ask the questions he couldn’t even begin to answer himself. Sure, he was openly gay since he was sixteen,that was not why he was concerned. Keeping a shrine of an imaginary person is just a whole new level of bizarre, even for him.He tried to keep Zayn and Liam from seeing the sketches, but that proved to be impossible when they moved into a flat together in London when he waseighteen. They were more intrigued than shocked to find out about the Boy. Louis still hadn’t named him, but his single star had turn into a scattering of tattoos over his body. 

A butterfly, swallows, hands shaking, a bird cage. Once, Louis drew a padlock on the boy’s wrist, and persuaded himself to ink a key on his own. It was silly, but as he drew more of the tattoos, he got himself complimentary ones. A ship and a compass, a quote and quotation marks, an anchor and rope.

When Louis turned twenty one, he got himself a dagger to match the Boy’s rose. 

It was just when his talk show had started really getting some ratings, and he got to do interviews with more and more famous people every week.Which brings him back to his problem right now, he needs a new guest.

Drastically.

He's contemplating his ideas, whilst curing his hangover and staring at the new dagger every few seconds as he scrawls down his tumblr dashboard.One specific post catches his eye, from a blog he doesn't know, thanking his half a million followers.Half a fucking million. How is that even possible? 

Of course, Louis has to investigate. It's a very anonymous blog, no selfies, the only thing slightly personal is his name, but even that could be fake. He posted a cup of his favourite soup just a few minutes ago. Chicken. Already it has hundreds of notes.He quickly makes a post.

13: 44 Who is this HarryStyles person????  

He's proud of his 150k followers, most of which he had gained when he did an interview with Pharrel Williams a few months back, and then Ariana Grande, and then Meghan Trainor. Things really just escalated from there. He doesn't know how his producers got all these interviews, but he's very thankful.

Plus, he loves his job. Absolutely adores it. He likes taking the shit out of people he should technically be scared of, and he has the type of personality that just makes people open up.

Also, people really like seeing celebrities drunk, apparently. And drunk is definitely the outcome when you play drinking games on air with Louis Tomlinson. He has quite the competitive streak, maybe because of coming from a big family.  He would, of course, be much more excited to do an interview with The 1975, say, because he is “such a music snob” as Zayn always points out when he's forced to listen to Louis’ playlist on their way to wherever.

Still.

He knows that interviews with these people are huge, and being kind of friends (hopefully) with them now, doesn't hurt either. He had even gone to one of Pharrell’s concerts the previous week, and that was a definite perk.He gets up to get himself a pain pill, but notices that there's already a few on his bedside table, along with a glass of water and a note that says that his roommates left to go get breakfast, which was later scratched out and replaced with lunch. It must be later than he thought. He takes a few of the pills, and then curls back into his bed, the note still in his hand, to wait for the effect to kick in. Louis is a great drunk. He could handle loads of heavy duty alcohol, making him even more outgoing and sarcastic than usual. However, he always pays the price by having wicked hangovers the next day.

He turns the note over, and scribbles aimlessly on the back, and before long, there the Boy is again. This time he has a headband on, and a button up shirt with the buttons left open, and a trench coat over it, something that he has begun to draw more and more these days. When he finishes off with the shoes (boots, as usual too) he peeks back into his message box and sees numerous responses from his followers. The main answers are: "Nobody knows", and "you should totally get him to be on your show!" Which is actually not a bad idea. Tumblr users exposes identity. He knows it won’t be easy to convince him though, and he really has to make sure that his fans (fans? Is he allowed to call them that?) wants it. His producers are going to kill him for this, but... 

14:03: I’ve been told to invite this bloke on my show. What do you say, @HarryStyles?

He only needs to refresh his dashboard twice before he sees the answer pop up.  

14:05 :  so @Louis_Tomlinson wants to interview me. Hey man, I love you but no fucking way. 

Louis' way more disappointed than he should be. He waits a while before responding, feeling right like a teenage girl not wanting to seem desperate.

14:11 : @HarryStyles I don’t know if I should be disappointed in your refusal, or respectful for your use of The Front Bottoms.

14:12 : @Louis_Tomlinson ah, you noticed. I’m studying in the US so even if I wanted to get shit faced with you, I can’t. Better luck next time.

Clearly Harry is not experiencing the same timing issues as Louis. And he knows who Louis is apparently.  Deciding that he would much rather talk to him where a million people weren’t looking over his shoulder, he sends HarryStyles a personal message. He may or may not spend the rest of the day talking to a guy he does not actually know a single thing about, and he also may or may not send the very same boy an email with the plane ticket to London that he bought for him just before he falls asleep.

 

 It occurs to him as he is standing on the airport with a sign as big as half of him (which is, admittedly, not that big) directing a Mr. Styles towards him,  that this person could be a rapist, or a serial killer, or even one of those skeevy pedophiles his mum always warns him against.He really hopes that he had not invited a lunatic to stay in his flat for the next week. 

He's so busy fretting about this detail he missed, that he doesn't notice the dreary eyed passengers making their way over. So busy that he doesn't notice HarryStyles standing in front of him until he taps him on his forehead.Twice.It is in that second that Louis loses every last one of his marbles.

“Ho-ly shit.”

Harry laughs, and awkwardly tries to shake Louis’ hand, who's too shocked to even notice the attempt.

“Fuck.”

Harry is starting to look like he's ready to bolt, but he also seems intrigued. In the way you are drawn to look at car accidents, or in the way you have to look at someone you admire, Louis can't really tell.He can, however, tell that he knew Harry a long time before he actually stood in front of him.

 

“You’re the Boy,” he whispers, but Harry doesn't hear him. Or maybe he chooses not to.

“I’m Harry. Obviously. And I take it you are Louis?”  
Louis' still staring at him as if he's an imaginary friend come to life. Which, to be fair, he kind of is. Harry is blushing now, and Louis realises he needs to make this moment less awkward than it already is.  
“Yes. Yup. Louis. Louis it is. Lou-eh, not Le-wis, which mind you, is actually a common misconception made by-”  
Hell, talking isn't helping. He is rambling. Louis does not ramble. He has met countless celebrities and kept his cool and charm around every single one of them.

Pick up your marbles now, son. Stop acting like a lunatic and scaring the Boy away.

Harry laughs, and his smile takes over his whole face and Louis can’t breathe because it’s him. It’s him. How on earth is that even possible? “You don’t look like a lunatic, just extremely nervous. Which I am too, guess I’m just better at hiding it, yeah?”

He must have said that out loud. Good. Great. Fantastic. What is this boy doing to him?  
Harry picks up his bag, which come to think of it, Louis had completely missed up until that point. That must show just how out of it he must have been, because that bag looks like it could contain all the other passengers' clothes no problem.

“You packed the whole US in for me?” Louis asks, and Harry smiles again, a smile that reaches right out and closes in on Louis’ heart. He's doomed for heartbreak and he knows it. 

Louis leads him to his car. “I hope it fits in the trunk. It being the suitcase, not you.”  
“Not helping to make me think you are not a lunatic.” He picked it up with ease and threw it into the trunk. It seems he did not skip arm days and just show up for bum and thigh days at the gym, like Louis.

Louis laughs, trying to keep himself from sounding hysterical. But it is hard to keep a straight face when your mind is exploding..

Once they're in the car, Louis feels a bit more relaxed. He turns to look at Harry the. To make sure he's okay, of course. Safety reasons and all. 

His heart is going crazy and it feels like someone punched him in the stomach. There's rings around Harry's long fingers, bands around his one wrist and an anchor decorating the other wrist. 

This boy is breathtaking. HarryStyles is breathtaking? He has messy curls framing his pale face, big green eyes. His lips look soft and bitten red, where Harry is biting down on his bottom lip. 

Louis can see swallows peeking out from under his shirt. The same swallows Louis spent hours drawing, trying at the beginning to draw the swallows over a tattoo of a banner with the word LOVE scrawled in it. 

"You're staring." He says. And oh fuck. His voice. 

"Yeah, sorry man." Louis gets the car to start and turns on the radio. 

"I'm a huge fan of your show, Louis." Harry says. 

 

So not a serial killer than. Just Louis' imaginary friend coming to life. Much fucking better, fate. 

"That's your real name?" He asks. "Harry Styles?" 

 

"Yeah. Figured there's a lot of Harry Styles' in this world, so there's no guarantee it's me."

 

Louis still feels a bit shaky but he raises a brow anyway. 

"Mate, I'm pretty sure there isn't a lot of people with the name Harry Styles."  
Harry laughs and there it is then. The dimples. 

"Hey! Harry is a very common name. Prince Harry-" 

"Harry Potter." Louis adds and Harry nods with a smile. 

"See?" 

"Okay, Curly. You've made your point." Harry laughs and stares out of the window. 

Which reminds Louis. 

"So Harry, sorry if I'm insulting you, but you really son't sound American at all." 

Harry looks over and smiles. "Actually I grew up in Cheshire. Thought I could go visit my family while I'm here. Haven't seen them in a while."

"Ah. I'm from Donny actually. Born and raised." He places a hand on his heart and Harry laughs. 

"Yorkshire lad, then." 

Louis nods. "So Harry Styles. Why did you go to the US then? Grew tired of the shitty weather?" 

Harry quickly shakes his head. "No! I love England. Love my home town. I just needed to get away a bit. To figure out what I want to do. I'm actually thinking of coming back here to study at the University of London next year."

Louis frowns. "I thought you're studying in the US already?" 

Harry nods. "I was. I dropped out.. I was a law student. But it's not for me. I want to be a photography major. My dad just insisted I do something else first, but I really hate law school."

"I completely agree." Louis says. "You have to do what makes you happy." 

Harry laughs. "Well, obviously you love what you do. Did you study drama?" 

"Yes, I did." Louis says. 

They sit in comfortable silence and Louis tries not to look at Harry. The way he leans against the window and the light of the sun dancing across his eyelashes. 

Harry's humming along to a song on the radio and Louis stops at a drive through to get them some tea.

Harry asks for one sugar and no milk and Louis pulls a face before adding two sugars. Harry laughs but sips on it anyway. 

"It actually tastes good." Harry says and Louis smiles. "Wait until you taste my Yorkshire tea." 

"Can't wait." Harry mutters and they drive in silence for another few minutes before stopping in front of Louis' house. It isn't much, he could probably buy a house much better than the bachelor pad he shares with Zayn. Liam moved out a year ago to live in a dorm at uni, but he comes home some weekends.

"Fuck"  
The pizza is cheese first on the ground, and the empty box is still balanced waiter style in Zayn's hand. He is staring at Harry in a way not unlike Louis had when he first saw him just over an hour ago. 

In the time that passed, he realised that he was not dreaming. Dreams don't last this long, and Harry... he was so real. Louis could never dream up such perfection. Although technically he did, but his drawings would never catch the light reflecting in Harry's eyes as he stared at the drizzle like it was a miracle.  
Louis did not know that he was staring at Harry in almost exactly the same way.  
"Happy to be home?" he had asked, and Harry smiled lazily. His feet were on the dashboard, and he was tapping his left foot on the beat of the song on the radio.  
"Yeah. LA is in a drought, and I didn't realise how much I missed it until now." 

Louis is snapped out his thoughts when he realises that Zayn is now staring at him.  
"Uh, Zayn, this is Harry, Harry, this is my roommate Zayn."  
"So he has a name," Zayn states as he puts down the pizza box. "Fuck, I'm going out for a smoke."  
He doesn't bother to grab his signature leather jacket before he heads out.  
"Charming," Harry says after the door is banged closed.  
"Ha, he usually is, actually. Now I'll show you your room, you'll probably want to sleep off some jetlag." 

He tries to ignore the sting of Harry's eyes on him as he leads him down the hall. Once the door is closed behind him, he grabs his own cigarettes to try and clear the image of those goddamn green eyes from his mind.

***

"Can I take you out tonight?" Louis looks over at Harry sitting at the counter eating an apple. 

"You want to take me out?" Louis asks and Harry nods with a smile. It's the second day Harry's there and when he wakes up the next morning he's even more beautiful. The blue under his eyes are gone and his skin has a bit more colo

"Yes, to say thank you for letting me stay here and stuff." Louis laughs and turns around, leaning against the counter where he was washing the dishes. 

"I should be thanking you, Harry." 

"Then you take me out." Louis laughs but he nods anyway. "Fine. I'm taking you out then."It's the second day They're sitting at a table in the corner of an Italian restaurant where one of Zayn's friends, Perrie, works. 

Harry looks breathtaking, his hair falling just right behind a USA scarf tied around his head. He's wearing a black trenchcoat, like Louis draws in his pictures. 

It's raining outside.

"So, Harry, you are on my show this weekend and I've only got a week to get to know you. So tell me about yourself." 

Louis' also been trying to figure out if Harry's gay or not is the thing. Because he keeps stealing little glances at Louis and he even looked a bit awestruck when he saw Zayn, but well, that's nothing new. But he couldn't figure it out so he's trying something new. 

"Well. I'm nineteen. I already told you where I grew up and what I'm studying." He takes a sip of his tea. "I have one older sister, Gemma, she lives in Leeds. I have a cat named Darcy, which my friend Ed is looking after, because I don't really trust other people to look after her, she's very fussy, real lady-" 

Louis can't help but laugh. 

"Okay Harry. Now that I know everything about your cat. What's your hobbies? Your talents? Weird obsessions?" Louis tries to casually sip ons his tea. "Sexual orientation and, you know. Stuff." 

Harry smiles and cautiously lifts an eyebrow. "Um. Heterosexual?" Louis is not upset. Of course not. He just thought maybe Harry was his soulmate. Which is silly. He does not believe in soulmates. 

But it's all good. So fucking swell. 

"You're straight?" He asks and Harry barks out a laugh and then Louis realises how rude he just sounded. 

"Sorry, that was so rude." He says and they stare at eachother before they both burst out in laughter and one of the waiters politely asks them to stay quiet. 

It's a fun night. If it would've been a date, which it wasn't, it would've been a bloody great date! 

They talk about how Louis started his show and how Harry started his tumblr blog and it's nice. Harry mentions that one of his favourite bands is Kodaline, ne and tells Louis that he'll play a few of their songs for him. All in all it's great.

 

Harry is great. And Louis had to try really hard not to lean over the table and kiss him, because Harry likes girls. Girls. Like the ones Louis should have drawn.

Zayn is just starting to act normal around Harry by the time Liam comes around for the first time. Luckily, at first, he was too busy thinking about everything he still had to study to even look up.

He studied for hours until he finally decided to be remotely social and made his way to the living room, where Louis and Harry were watching movies, limbs interconnected, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Ah, Liam! You come with the timing of the angel that you are. Make us some tea, would you?”  
Liam relaxes onto the other couch. “Oi, no way man. I’ve been studying for five hours straight. If anyone around here needs a cup of tea, it would be me.”  
“Fine,” Louis grumbles, disentangling himself from Harry, who is taking up most of the blanket in anyway, only leaving his toes peeking out. “Harry, tea?”  
“Of course,” comes the muffled response, and somewhere between the hallway and the kitchen he adds, “One sugar, no milk.”  
I know, Louis wants to say. 

When the kettle stops hissing, Louis hears a loud bang from the nearby room, followed by Liam yelling, “Louis!” with the urgency of someone who just entered a haunted house alone. Or saw their friend’s drawings come to life, quite like the John Hughes movie they were currently watching.  
Louis was a bit of a sucker for 80’s movies. 

Harry must have unwrapped himself from his blanket cocoon to talk to Liam. Louis throws their tea together, not even bothering to add milk to his or Liam’s, knowing he had to go do some damage control. Stat.  
Before he could even make it further than the kitchen door though, Liam was there and pushing him back inside, carefully shutting the door behind him before turning to stare at Louis.

Louis knew this would happen, he even had a whole speech prepared, but somehow his throat went dry when he saw the way Liam was looking at him. There was no way he could lie his way out of this one. 

Louis sighs and puts the tea down. “Don’t freak out.”  
“Bit too late for that,” Liam was as white as a sheet. “Want to explain why your fucking art is sitting in our living room?”  
“That’s, uh, Harry, The tumblr guy. I don’t know how it happened, but… it’s him.”  
“It’s him alright. I’d recognise that face anywhere, after seeing it for so many years."  
"Yeah. He has all the tattoos though, I've checked. And Liam, you know I don't have a type, but if I did, it would be him. Fuck, it would only be him."  
"Even though you barely know the guy?"  
"Yeah. It feels like I've known the bloke for ages." Time did not seem to exist around Harry.  
"Does he know about the drawings?” Liam askes, leaning against the counter and taking a sip as he waits for Louis' timed response.  
“No, NO. And he won’t find out.” He hates the way his voice breaks on the second no.  
“Why not?” Liam was pouting now. He was always a hopeless romantic, the one arguing for fate against Louis and Zayn’s cynical defence. 

“1. It would freak him out. Probably more than it freaks us out. 2. The show is next week, and him finding out would just be awkward. 3. He’s…”  
“He’s?”  
“Straight.” Louis grabbed his and Harry’s tea, and stormed past Liam, who was saying something about how sorry he was, something Louis did not want to hear. He is nobody’s pity party, that’s for sure. 

Crying?  
No, no, there’s just something in his eye. At least, that’s what he says.

***

Louis can't sleep. It's two am. It's just that he's actually really pissed off. He's tired, but thoughts are keeping him awake and he blames Harry. 

And the urge to smoke. Liam's right. He does have a problem.

He grabs a pack of cigarettes and a lighter and goes outside to the balcony. It's cold and it still smells like rain, a smell that Louis quite likes. It smells clean. There's footsteps behind him and Louis' head snaps towards the sound.  
"Fuck, Harry. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" He whisper yells and Harry just smirks, sitting next to him and sitting close to Louis so the blanket Harry brought outside covers them both.  
For someone who claims they're straight, this boy sure doesn't know the meaning of personal space. 

"Sorry, Lou." He says and Louis feels a bit warmer at the nickname.

"Why are you up?" Harry asks and Louis shrugs, doesn't look at Harry, because their faces would be way to close. 

Instead he looks out over the balcony. They don't have the best view. They have a view of a shitty old bar that seems to be open 24 hours of the day because there's always loud music and drunk people coming out of the bar. 

"Couldn't sleep." He answers. "You?" 

"I have a bit of insomnia, actually." Harry says. Louis raises an eyebrow at the sky and nods his head towards a girl standing outside of the bar. "What's her story you think?" Louis asks and Harry tilts his head, looking at the girl in concentration. 

"Think maybe her friends forced her to get out of the house. Her dress is way too long and she looks really uncomfortable. She's clutching her handbag to her chest and her make up is way too perfect." 

Louis nods. "I agree. Maybe she went through a bad break up and her friends wanted to- Oh wait! There a guy comes now." 

"See this guy is smart." Harry says and Louis laughs. 

"Is that so? And why is that Casenova?" 

Harry shrugs. "He's going for the weak ones. See this one pretends he is a med student and he's nice around the parents. But after you get in bed with him he leaves and chases the next weak one." 

Louis claps his hands slowly. "Ladies and gentlemen." He says loudly. "Meet Harry fucking Styles. He knows everyone's tricks. And yes Harry Styles is his real-" 

Harry slaps a hand over his mouth and he's laughing so loud that Louis should be telling him to be quiet because the neighbours are gonna start complaining. But he can't help smiling and biting down on Harry's palm softly. Harry yelps and pulls his hand back. 

"You're disgusting." He mutters, but Louis can hear his voice is fond. 

Then Louis turns his head to look at Harry, swears he sees Harry smile just a little bit wider. 

"You're crazy, Harry Styles." 

Harry looks at him, his eyes flicker to Louis' lips. 

"So you really have insomnia then?" Louis asks softly and he's so close he can feel Harry breathe out a laugh against his chin. 

"Maybe I just wanted to come sit with a famous host." 

Louis laughs. "I see." 

Harry doesn't stop looking at him, his eyes are piercing. And they're so so green. So beautiful. 

Louis looks away again. 

They're quiet for a few seconds until Harry starts speaking again. 

"What do you think people think my story is when they see me from down at the bar sitting on this balcony?" 

Louis laughs. "Maybe Repunsel. With these long curls of yours." Louis pulls one of Harry's curls to prove his point and Harry laughs, bumping Louis with his shoulder. 

"I'm serious." 

Louis pretends to be thinking really hard. "I'd think you're breathtaking. Maybe that you're a bit crazy sitting in the cold at 2 am, but I'd think you're really beautiful. I'd probably think you're the artsy type and that you have your own gallery with your paintings or photos. I'd think that your girlfriend is waiting Inside and I'd think she's really lucky-" 

And then Harry's hand is in his hair and he's turning Louis' head and his lips are on Louis'.

Harry kisses the same way he talks. Slow and warm. 

Before Louis can even respond Harry's pulling back, wide eyed and his lips are even more red than usual.  
"Goodnight." He mutters and then he stands up, walking back into the house.

Louis watches him walk away and then places a few fingers on his lips. Okay the. The boy he's been drawing since he was eight years old just kissed him. He kissed him and now Louis doesn't even think about lighting that cigarette after all. Because Harry is all around him, like smoke. Venturing through his veins. 

***

Louis is lured out his dreams by the smell of breakfast cooking. 

Who the fuck makes breakfast at five am? Must be an American thing.

In the kitchen, Zayn's sitting cross-legged on the counter, and Harry's putting the pancakes on the plates. The moment their eyes meet, the air is crackling with suspension.

“What are you doing?” Louis asks, and the last thing he means is the breakfast.

“Don’t question everything,” Harry answers, and Louis knows what he means. Zayn does too, because he rolls his eyes and takes his plate, claiming he needs to be somewhere. 

5 am. 

Zayn has never been the best liar.Once they're alone, Harry takes his pancakes and sits on the windowsill with his feet propped up. He's way too tall to do this, and he should have fallen right down, but for some reason Louis’ windowsill just fits Harry perfectly.  
.  
“Why are you up so early?” Louis asks, taking a pancake of his own. He hates small talk.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Harry takes one of his curls and curls it around his finger, “Must still be a bit jetlagged,” Harry's lying, Louis can see it. Strange how he barely knows this boy, but feels like he could just see right into his soul. Like there's nothing he could hide.“

Oh. Well, uhm. Seems like the weather is nice out, innit?”He really, really hated small talk.

“The weather, seriously? Are we resorting to that?” Harry is smirking now, one of his dimples showing and Louis can’t breathe because it’s not fair. For thirteen years he’s been trying to draw that single dimple and not once did it look quite right, but there Harry goes and all it takes is a split second for him to paint the dimple on himself.

“I don’t really know what you want from me?”

“Who says I even want you?” Harry twirls, twirls, twirls the curl and Louis’ heart feels like it’s been frozen. Liar.Harry bites his lip, and in a second Louis is right there next to him, janking him upright and kissing him like he should have the night before. Harry doesn’t take long to get over theinitial shock, and then he’s kissing back and Louis goes blind.The blind only lasts a few second before there’s colour. 

Redgreenpurpleyellowredgreenpurpleyellow. All dancin behind his eyelids.

Louis places his hand under Harry’s shirt, because he can now, he can do everything he thought and thought and thought about from when he was eight years old. He touches the river of his stomach, his chest, his shoulder. He hears him whisper "yeah" under his breath, which makes Louis shudder, which makes Harry shudder.Louis knows how to kiss Harry too, how to make his whole body tremble by just biting his lip,how to make him moan right inside his mouth by just saying his name, how to make his head fall back, his curls radiating in the first morning rays.It’s like Louis has taken every possible class about kissing Harry.

“I think it’s quite clear you want me,” Louis says, stopping for a moment to catch his breath, their foreheads resting against each other. Harry smiles, another one of those grins that takes up half his face, and Louis thinks that he could happily spend the whole of eternity just counting the crinkles by his eyes.

Harry pulls away and grabs his camera, and before Louis can stop him, the flash goes off and Harry blinds him for the second time in a few minutes. He laughs at the thought. The flash goes off again.  
He decides he’s had enough, and takes the camera out of Harry’s hands, and… he’s so real. He’s HIM, and he’s HERE.  
***  
“Harry, how would you like going on a date with me?”  
Harry freezes, tea halfway to his mouth. Louis wants to grab the words back, but he can’t. He can’t, they’ve already filled the air around them.  
“Uhm…”

Louis knows this is trouble. He’s dated a closet case before, and he only got hurt. It’s not the same. There’s no dates, or people seeing you together. He isn’t superficial, but still. There was something you had to admire about people noticing your love. 

“Just dinner. No big deal or anything, if you’re not up to it,” Louis mutters, staring down at his hands. He feels a kiss planted on his forehead, and it feels so faint that it’s almost a memory and the thought makes his insides scream. 

“Yeah, sure, okay. We can just go now?”  
“Yeah.” This is awkward. Louis shouldn’t have said anything. 

They go to this little Italian restaurant that Harry saw the other day when he was jogging. The owner stops Louis and asks for his picture, because apparently he is a big fan of his show. Louis is too shocked and happy to notice two flashes go off.

The owner insists on giving them a table in one of the private back rooms, which Louis thinks is a bit odd, considering he isn’t actually famous. He only knows quite a few famous people.  
The date is nice, with no drama or complications.  
Harry notes how relaxed he feels; like he’s known Louis since he was five. Louis almost chokes on his water. When Harry was five, Louis was eight. Right around the time he started drawing.  
“Maybe we have,” he says before he can really stop himself.  
“What? Shit, please don’t say you’re a childhood friend I forgot all about. It’s happened before.”  
Louis laughs, “No, no.”  
“Good. I don’t think I could ever forget a face like that.”  
Louis smiles down at his plate, before glancing up to Harry, who winks at him. He feels all his confusion and weird feelings from before drift away just like that, and everything is okay then.

When they walk home, he tries to take his hand, but Harry pulls away from Louis and Louis tries very, very hard to blame it on something else. 

***

“Bloody hell, Harry, sit still.” Louis runs his hand through Harry’s hair to get the last of the flour out. He’d woken up to Harry trying (unsuccessfully) to bake him a good luck cake for his show tonight.  
“You’re hurting me,” Harry pouts, and Louis swallows. He’s so fucking beautiful, even with flour in his hair and a smear of chocolate on his cheek.  
“You’re staring,” Harry mutters, and Louis pulls away, feeling a blush tinge his cheeks.  
“I recommend you just go shower, I can’t get all the flour out.”  
Harry nods, and gets up. He starts walking towards the hall but stops and turns around. Before Louis can really comprehend anything, there are lips on his hair and then his lips. He tastes like the stolen bites of chocolate Louis is sure Harry had while making the batter.  
“Thanks, Lou.”  
And then he’s walking away.

***

“Harry, are you ready to go?”  
Louis is standing by the door, somewhat late as usual. He needed to be at the studio in ten minutes.  
“Almost, almost, just hang on for a few.”  
Louis sighs, and puts down his keys on the countertop. He feels the piece of paper in pocket burning him. While Harry showered that morning, he drew again. This time, it is not just Harry. It is Louis too. They’re kissing in a swirl of colour, redgreenpurpleyellowredgreenpurpleyellow.  
Harry had almost seen it too, because he snuck up behind him and hugged him from behind. Louis hid the paper with lightning speed, and luckily Harry didn’t ask what was going on.  
“Harry, I’m going to start the car so long, just get in when you’re ready.”  
He hears a noncommittal murmur from the bathroom, rolls his eyes and takes the lift down to the basement garage. He wonders how long he is still going to smile every time he sees his car. Up until a month ago, he still drove and fifth hand, beat up mini, with no air-condition. The only thing that seemed to really work was the radio, but it only picked up a boring talk radio and a local station that seemed to be fairly fond of playing opera at every given chance.  
Still, Louis had liked the car. He had some, er, fond memories in it. 

But the new car had caught his eye the moment he entered the car shop. Thanks to his hefty salary, he could actually afford it too. The new leather smell still hangs in the air, and Louis sits there, stupidly smiling at just how happy he is in that moment, until Harry gets in and slams the door shut, janking Louis away from his thoughts.  
The drive to the studio was short, but it gave him enough time to check Harry out. His hair was quiffed up at the front, perfectly gelled in every possible direction.He’s wearing his black trenchcoat again, with his black skinny jeans and a white t shirt that stretched so low what Louis could see the birds completely.  
He can’t even remember why he drew eyebrows on them. Birds don’t have eyebrows.  
They make it just on time, and Louis has time to go through hair and make up before his guest shows up. Harry sits next to him, staring at both of them in the mirror. 

“Liam and Zayn are stopping by, and I think Liam said something about bringing a friend too. They should be here in a while, so you can just sit with them during the show, yeah?”  
“Okay,” Harry says, and Louis can see he is still a bit wary of Liam after he flipped out. 

Harry looks like he wants to say something, but Louis’ guest, a new up and coming artist, Olivia enters the room, making everybody stop and stare at her. She has that type of aura around her that just attracts light. No one knows her surname yet, but Louis hopes he can get her drunk enough to spill.  
Harry looks awestruck, and what’s worse, Olivia is staring back at Harry. Louis’ stomach coils, but he keeps his cool as he introduces himself to her, and then, to Harry. 

“Harry,” she says, batting her eyelashes like someone was shining a torch right into her eyes. He expected Harry to be as unimpressed as him, but the boy look entranced. He is putting on his charm too, all winks and flirting and Louis feels so sick, he has to excuse himself, and goes and locks himself in the bathroom until he has to get out to interview that bitch.  
She is making a big, big mistake. There is not a bone in Louis’ body that is not competitive, especially when he’s jealous. 

Game. On.

***  
By the end of the interview, Olivia (surname: Burns) is so off her arse that even standing make her topple and titter on those stupid ten inch heels that she insisted on keeping. Louis, however is not an ounce less sober than he was when he walked in the studio. He walked right over to Harry, so that there was only a few inches between them, and gave the boy a smirk, his eyes tingling with mischief.

"Ready to go home now, Haz?"  
Harry blanched and looked down at his feet. "Actually..."  
Louis frowned. He had planned a nice evening for them, Zayn and Liam went drinking with their friend Niall, and they would have the flat all to themselves, to do whatever they wished. He wasn't planning on wasting a single second of it."

Harry sighed, "Liv asked me if I wanted to hit up this lounge with her after the show. I don't have a key, so I figured I would just send the night at her place and then swing over yours in the morning."  
Louis recoiled at the sound of the nickname, stepping out of Harry's personal space and crossing his arms. He saw Harry flinch at that. "Don't you think she looks a bit too tipsy for that? Just look at the girl, she can barely stand straight."  
"Then I'll make sure she gets home safely, and apologise for my friend getting her so wasted." Before, Harry would talk about the drinking games as if they were genius, now it was definitely an insult. 

Olivia chose that moment to prance over, invading the personal space of Harry's that Louis had left only seconds before. She fastened her arms around him, leaning with her full weight on him to kiss his cheek, almost knocking Harry off balance, and making Louis feel that he could very well commit murder right then. 

Louis, along with his competitive streak, got very, very jealous. In mere seconds, he would become green and his friendliness would snap right off him.  
"Leeeeeeeuuuuwis," Olivia drawled, now turning to Louis, whose colour was hovering somewhere between seaweed and basil, "Thanks soooooooo much for having me, t'was wicked fun. Should totally do it again..." She trailed off, noticing the donuts on the table next to them. "Omigash, I can't drink it 'cause my diet, but... no. No. I need to drink that." She grabbed the last chocolate one, Louis' favourite.  
Harry gently turned her towards him, holding her hips slightly so she wouldn't fall over. "I think you mean eat, love." She stared at him like he just said the meaning of life. Of course, right then her stomach decided to empty itself, but she turned away from Harry at the last second, making all the yuck fall on Louis brand new shoes.  
Harry grabbed her hair and held it behind her, rubbing circles on her back, whilst staring at Louis apologetically. Louis was in too much shock to move away, but once his sense was back, he sprinted out of the room, kicking his shoes of as he went. He heard Harry calling after him, but he didn't stop until he was inside his car, hoping the smell of vomit wouldn't take away the new car smell. 

Once home, he made himself some tea and after taking a long shower, he curled into his bed and let himself drift, forgetting entirely about his sketch that was still somewhere in the bundle of laundry on the bathroom tiles.

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued. This fic isn't chaptered, just a really long one-shot, but not done yet.


End file.
